The Star of the County Down
by Ambar9
Summary: So he watched her and she watched him watching her; the two of them tied in a never-ending dance.


_Disclaimer: the familiar characters and source material, including the lyrics to "The Star of the County Down" are not mine._

* * *

 _Near Banbridge town, in the County Down,_

 _One morning last July_

 _Down a bóithrín green came a sweet cailín,_

 _And she smiled as she passed me by_

It took him four long weeks to learn the name of the newest of Princess Elia's ladies. In the end he had to ask. The man he called to his office gave him a knowing look as he gave him her name.

A Tyrell.

Of course, no other family bred girls who would smile as brazenly at the world. And Cailin Tyrell was the very epitome of her house.

He, of course, did not spent much time in the company of the Crown Princess' ladies, but as their laughter and perfume permeated every corner, stairwell and empty corridor of the keep, he found it impossible to completely ignore them.

So he watched, discreetly, from the shadows behind the King. He watched the girl become the foremost of the Princess' escort. A tiny slip of a girl, no more that 15, became the leading light and efficient manager of her mistress' household.

And as he watched her, he realised that she watched him. A deep appraising look when no one else watching.

Curious, he though.

So he watched her and she watched him watching her; the two of them tied in a never-ending dance.

* * *

During the winter, Princess Elia fell ill and when she recovered in the spring, the Queen and the Crown Prince convinced the King to leave the castle, to take the court on progress. He disliked the rush and confusion of progress but no one disobeyed.

They settled in a sprawling keep on border between the Reach and the Crownlands, where the grass grew long and sweet and the court spent their days in the sun. Each night the King would gather the court under the stars and frivolity ran riot.

In these last happy days of the King, he watched the girl caring for her mistress. He could see the winds changing and knew she was smart enough to see it too. He could not understand how she could stay in a sinking ship.

One night the King, looking upon those around him, decided that he had neglected his Hand. He decreed that his Hand was too stolid, too upright, too boring and promised a golden crown to any who could bend him.

Many tried and all failed. Some he turned down gently (as it is always a good idea to keep royalty on your side) and some he turned down flat. Frankly he was tired of the whole experience, the whole court.

She found him up in a dark corner. "My Lady needs a win, My Lord" she whispered. She stared up into his eyes, imploring him to play along. And then she was gone as quick as she had come.

As they sat down after dinner to watch the performers and dancers whirl by in the hopes of catching the King's eye, the Crown Princess announced in her quiet, gentle way that it was her turn to engage her Lord Hand.

He looked into her face, torn between storming away in disgust and taking up her hand, she was so lost in this environment.

"I would not endanger your good health your majesty." He replied, attempting to extricate them both from this uncomfortable situation. Her face began to fall and urge to protect her overpowered him. "Name your champion my lady."

As soon as the words left his mouth there was a rustle behind him.

The Princess smiled. "Ah Lady Cailin. If you would be so kind?"

She stood in front of him, barefooted, slightly breathless and ruffled as if she had needed to rush to get to him. Her skin was dewy and she was beaming at him. She held out her hands and for the first time in over a decade, he step forward to dance.

 _She looked so sweet from her two bare feet_

 _To the sheen of her nut brown hair_

* * *

Later that evening he sent his servants away and settled down to the papers and scrolls that detailed the organisation and management of the kingdom. As he was diligently working, there was a quiet tapping at the door.

Sighing, he left what he was doing and went to the door.

On the other side, looking apprehensively around her, was a vision in white silk.

He looked down he corridor in both directions, then pulled her inside and quickly followed the door.

"Why are you here?"

 _Such a coaxing elf, sure I shook myself_

 _For to see I was really there._

His eyes followed her as she wandered around his chamber, running a hand over the table and peering down at he papers on his desk.

"How are you this evening, My Lord? Is the chamber to your liking?"

He wondered how long she would tiptoe around the subject before they got to the point.

Then, as she dropped her cloak and started to undo her nightgown, he found out.

"What are you doing?"

She raised an eyebrow at him. It was a poor, unpracticed attempt at seduction, but quite obviously an attempt.

"I am the youngest daughter of a large family, my mistress is not in favour, I need to thank you for what you did for us. What else can I offer you? I have nothing."

He stared at her.

"That was her first victory in many moons, if not years. We are in your debt."

"So you mistress put you up to this?"

"No. No she doesn't know I'm here." A pause. "My Lord, all I have to offer is myself."

"As you said, you are the daughter of a large family. Surely they wish to marry you off. Are you sure you want to disappoint your lord husband on your marriage night?"

"A younger son or minor lord? Let him be as disappointed in me as I will be in him," she scoffed.

He took a moment to really look at her. There was no doubt that she was an attractive prospect; young, beautiful and willing. But there was more there. She had acted in desperation in order bring happiness to her mistress and when she had looked over his papers, she looked with really interest and understanding. Beautiful, compassionate and intelligent. She really was a prize.

"Should I not be allowed to choose my prize as it were?"

She nodded in assent, but began to look apprehensive again.

He looked at her, shy but prepared and made his decision.

"I should like to watch you bathe."

* * *

And he would have if he trouble had not started that very night. Guards and courtiers came running to announce the Crown Prince had absconded with the Northern Child and all hell broke loose.

She was sent back to the capital with her mistress, and they met once more before they went their separate ways. She slipped to the back of his mind, yet another ghost of the past.

Many years later, they both returned to the capital to take up their previous positions. He as the King's Hand and she as the comptroller of her niece's household.

So he watched, discreetly, from the shadows behind the King. And as he watched her, he realised that she watched him. A familiar, appraising look when no one else watching. When he was sure she was settled, that she was still the same, he slipped into her room one night as she was bathing by the fireplace.

"Have you come to claim your prize, My Lord?"

"Yes."

 _Till my smiling bride by my own fireside_

 _Sits the star of the County Down._

* * *

 _Inspired by the traditional song: "The Star Of The County Down"_

 _Banbridge Town in the County Down_

 _One morning last July,_

 _From a boreen green came a sweet colleen_

 _And she smiled as she passed me by._

 _She looked so sweet from her two bare feet_

 _To the sheen of her nut brown hair_

 _Such a coaxing elf, sure I shook myself_

 _For to see I was really there._

 _[Chorus:]_

 _From Bantry Bay into Derry Quay_

 _From Galway to Dublin Town_

 _No maid I've seen like the fair colleen_

 _That I met in the County Down_

 _As she onward sped, sure I scratched my head,_

 _And I looked with a feelin' rare,_

 _And I says, says I, to a passer-by,_

 _"Who's the maid with the nut brown hair?_

 _He smiled at me and he says, says he,_

 _"That's the gem of Ireland's crown._

 _Young Rosie McCann from the banks of the Bann,_

 _She's the star of the County Down."_

 _[Chorus]_

 _The Harvest Fair she'll be surely there_

 _And I'll dress in my Sunday clothes,_

 _With my shoes shone bright and my hat cocked right_

 _For a smile from my nut brown rose._

 _No pipe I'll smoke, no horse I'll yoke_

 _Till my plough turns rust coloured brown._

 _Till my smiling bride by my own fireside_

 _Sits the star of the County Down._

 _[Chorus]_

 _[Repeat]_


End file.
